Just Peachy
by L. Dora Willows
Summary: Ron and Hermione go peachpicking on the Weasley property, and share more than peaches. Cute fluffy piece, obviously RWHG. Rated for language. Oneshot.


**Just Peachy**

It was a hot summer's day at The Burrow. Most of its inhabitants were wisely choosing to spend such a day inside, with the exception of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.

"Ron," said Hermione, squinting at him through the bright sunlight, "how far did you say it was from your house to the peach tree grove?"

Ron had been boasting about the Weasley Family peaches for days, until Hermione finally asked if she could actually taste one, instead of just hearing about them.

"Not too far," he replied, grinning at her lazily and causing her stomach to flip pleasantly and fly into her throat.

Oh, how she loved him.

It had taken Hermione ages to realize it, but what she felt for Ron was not simple infatuation, but love.

Ron, however, had made it perfectly clear that he was quite unaware of the emotions that were gnawing at her insides.

Hermione knew he had to feel at least _something_ for her; it was just a matter of waiting for him to admit it – not only to her, but to himself as well.

They walked in silence for several more minutes until finally reaching the cluster of trees that stood on the outskirts of Weasley property.

"Here we are," Ron announced, turning around to face her.

"And after only a 45 minutes walk!" Hermione muttered.

"It would have taken so bloody long if you hadn't wanted to stop and examine every ruddy shrub we past!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, scandalized.

"Yeah! That's right! And if you hadn't been so bloody _distracting_, I wouldn't have led us in the wrong direction!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Ron flushed, realizing what he had said.

"I-I didn't, I just…Oh, Merlin…" His face was as red as his hair now.

Hermione, a little pink in the cheeks as well, thought it best, for both their sanities, she ignore his statement for the time being.

_But he said I was distracting,_ a little voice in her head whispered, _That's a good thing, right?_

"So," said Ron awkwardly, "shall I – er – climb up and get some peaches for us?"

"I'm perfectly capable of picking some as well," Hermione informed him, affronted.

"Sorry," he mumbled, "I didn't mean you weren't perfectly capable, I just…ugh forget it," he turned away in disgust.

"Er," Hermione said, at a loss for words. She _had_ to say something, _anything_ to fill this awful silence.

"How was your summer? What did you do before I got here?" she asked.

"Nothing," Ron said carefully. Truth be told, he had spent the dreadful two weeks prior to Hermione's arrival wringing his hands in anticipation and counting down the seconds until she was due to arrive at the Burrow, not that he'd ever admit this to her.

"Oh, alright then," she said, slightly put out.

They looked at each other for what seemed like ages to Hermione. Ron had a look in his eyes she couldn't quite place. It was almost as if there were a blazing fire behind his pupils, and the dancing flames were glowing behind his irises. It was a look that could only be described as … yearning.

Hermione stepped back, slightly startled.

"Let's start picking," she said quickly, and put a foot on the rough trunk of the tree. She reached up to grab a branch in an attempt to hoist herself up, but was stopped by Ron.

"Wait, why can't we just use magic and levitate them down?" he asked.

"It's more fun this way," Hermione replied with a slight smile. Ron shrugged, and followed her up the tree. She pulled herself into a sitting position on a sturdy, thick branch about twenty feet above ground.

"Just a little way's further," she coaxed, as Ron stopped, not certain of the safety of the situation, "it's perfectly safe."

He doubtfully took hold of her outstretched hand, and Hermione felt a jolt in her stomach, and her fingers began to tingle. His hand was just so _warm_. She knew she would feel safe holding it, under any circumstances.

"Er, Hermione?" Ron asked, "a little help here?"

"What? Oh! Sorry!" she blushed, pull him up to sit beside her.

He reached over her head and plucked a ripe peach.

"Looks delicious!" he exclaimed, and took a big bite, a rush of peach juice trickling down his chin as he did so.

Hermione giggled.

"What?" he asked, more juice spilling out of his mouth.

"Nothing," she replied, suppressing her laughter.

"Want some?" he offered, holding the peach out for her to take.

"Sure!" She reached for it, but found that he was too far away.

"Er, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't reach from there."

"So come over here!"

"I can't" she said meekly, "I'll fall."

"Oh, alright," Ron said, and carefully scooted closer. "Better?"

"Yes," she smiled, extending an arm to take it from him. Ron, however, held it high above his head and out of her reach.

"Ron!" she protested.

"Sorry, Hermione," he shrugged, "but if you want it that badly, you're going to have to work for it."

She leaned closer to snatch it out of his hand, but toppled over, sprawling across his lap.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, blushing, "I-I didn't mean to…"

Ron grinned at her nervously, the tips of his ears bright red.

"S'alright," he assured her, smiling, "You don't have to get up, I don't want you to fall."

"Thanks," said Hermione, relieved but nonetheless horribly embarrassed.

"No problem."

"So, I can I, um, have my peach now?"

"Not yet."

"Ron!"

"I – I need to tell you something first."

"Go on then."

He took a deep breath.

"Can I show you instead?"

Hermione sighed. "If you must," she said uncertainly, sure this was some sort of a joke.

"A-alright then," he said, taking hold of her arm and helping her to sit up.

They were very close now, Hermione could feel tingles and jolts of energy running through her body. She gulped, hands clammy.

Ron didn't exactly help matters. His warm hands took hold of her cold ones, and he turned to face her.

"Please don't hate me," he whispered, and leaned towards her, his lips meeting hers.

The kiss was tender, gentle, and very chaste, yet Hermione felt as though she might explode from sheer delight. He tasted, not surprisingly, like peaches.

_I'd much rather taste the famous Weasley peaches this way than actually eating them, _ she thought, feeling positively giddy.

After several moments, they broke apart, both blushing profusely.

Ron had a huge grin on his face, and seeing Hermione's dazed expression asked, "H-Hermione? Are you alright?"

"Just peachy," she answered, and leaned in to kiss him again.


End file.
